Club Tepes
by Loyal Integra Fanboy
Summary: Alucard only fanfic, yet he appears in the last few paragraphs. Spoilt the end now! Rated M for very strong adult themes and drug references AND nasty violence. Totally Adults only. You have been warned.


**Contains descriptions of hard drug use, sexual themes and violence. Read with caution.**

**Hellsing: Club Tepes**

Steven was already drunk by the time Emily arrived at his door. He faintly heard the buzzer, and he stumbled to the intercom. He leant lazily on the button. 'I'll buzz you in, my love.'

'Christ, Steven, you look like shit.' Said Emily, when she saw him in the hallway. 'How much have you had?'

'Not bloody enough…' he slurred.

'I would disagree.'

Steven felt he had every right to get drunk. He deserved it. Not only had he been sacked that day, due to 'unforeseeable needs to make cutbacks', he'd only been freshly dumped a couple of days earlier, by Haley, the miserable sow who thought that Russ, the copy boy, was a much better fuck than he was. All he had to keep him from being depressed about it was his work, at the Head office of Woolworth's. Now he didn't even have that. So now he was depressed.

Emily knew how much Steven loved Haley. But it was fine for her, because now, she could finally get round to revealing to him, her best friend since Secondary school, that she loved him. She'd loved him for the best part of five years, but she never had the courage, since Steven never really saw her as anything but a really close friend. Sure, they'd fucked on a few occasions, just for fun, but it was never anything serious. Emily wanted to tell him her feelings, but alas, she couldn't, in the hallway of his flat, because he was too drunk. But if there was to be a sympathy fuck to come out of it, well, she'd have no problem with that.

'You need some relaxation therapy, sweetheart,' she announced, as Steven was groping for the bottle of vodka on the table, 'Honey, put that down, I'll make you a coffee.'

'Okay flash, what's your plan?' enquired a more sober Steven, half an hour later, after the strongest cup of black coffee and the coldest shower he'd ever had.

'Well, darling,' said Emily, 'I was thinking of taking you to this 'alternative' bar in Soho. Called Club Tepes, or something. Real gothic place, real nasty – you'll love it.'

'I'm not so sure…' Steven pondered, leaning back in his chair and brushing a hand through his blonde, wavy hair.

'Oh, come on! Live a little.'

She had dressed for the occasion already, in a long black gothic dress which hugged her curvy figure, and her brunette hair was straightened and hanging down as far as her shoulder blades. She was a beautiful young woman, with cherub-like facial features, and full lips, which she had adorned with black lipstick. Her deep green eyes were decorated with matching green eye shadow. She knelt behind Steven, placing one arm around his shoulders.

'You never know until you try… And you need to have some fun.'

With her other hand she fished a tiny parcel wrapped in tin foil out of her handbag, and waved it casually in front of Steven's face. Leaning in, she whispered, 'I'll cook up.'

The sinister, heavy rock music in Club Tepes, in combination with the candles lighting the place, and typically gothic arrangements of candelabras, stained glass paintings and assortments of torture equipment on display, made for an atmosphere that gave Steven a welcome exhilaration of being on the edge. It felt like a dangerous place, a deadly place, and the cocktail of hard drugs coursing through his veins only enhanced that feeling. The sting he felt when the needle pierced his skin has faded long ago, as had the warm sensation in his veins when he squeezed the plunger of the syringe in, but the disjointed and unearthly state of mind it induced had remained. He hadn't recalled a lot between then and the moment he arrived at the club. He stood with Emily, similarly intoxicated, nursing a drink, not quite in synch with the world. She was talking her usual bullshit, the result of being high as a kite, to a man with long wavy hair and clothes that looked like they were straight out of the eighteenth century. He gazed at the man warily. At his side was a slender, pale skinned, but very beautiful woman, aged it seemed, about nineteen. She clung to his side like a trophy.

Clarity returned slowly to Steven's mind, or at least, as much clarity as the drugs would allow. He decided that he would enter the conversation, and save Emily from the embarrassment of sounding like a twat.

'Who are you?' he was subtly polite, naturally.

The man turned to him and smiled a sharp smile. The woman looked at him through sultry eyes.

'Hello, friend. My name is Vincent.' He said warmly, with a voice that seemed placeless and timeless. 'And you?'

'Steven,' the friendliness of the gentleman made him feel sheepish for being so rude. 'I do hope Emily isn't being too irritating for you.'

'Quite the contrary, friend,' Vincent said amicably, 'your friend has been most enlightening.'

'I see,' Steven had never heard her described as that before.

'You're such a gentleman,' giggled Emily.

'How rude of me,' said Vincent, 'I did not introduce you to my lady. Steven, meet Lydia.'

Lydia removed herself from Vincent, and sleekly stepped forward, regally extending a slender hand. 'Pleased to meet you – Steven.'

Steven felt compelled to take her hand and plant a kiss. He did so. Her hand felt somewhat cold against his hand and his lips.

'It's a pleasure to meet you too, my lady,' he said, pretending to be as chivalrous as Vincent.

With her hand still holding Steven's she turned her head to Vincent. 'I like this one,' she said sweetly.

'So, tell me,' Vincent said, 'what do you think?'

'Of what?' asked Steven.

'Of this place.'

'Oh, I'm quite impressed. It's so… _gothic._'

'I'm glad you approve. You see, I own it.'

'Really?' Steven was impressed. By the sheer number of people dancing, drinking and kissing in here, which amounted to a lot, he reckoned he must make quite a killing at this place.

'You must make a killing out of this place,' mused Steven.

Vincent chuckled knowingly. 'Yes… quite.'

Emily giggled nervously at Vincent's tone. It was dark, suddenly, with a hint of malice. But as soon as his mood had shifted, it returned to that of a friendly host.

'You don't happen to have any vacancies, do you?' Steven half-joked, 'I'm between jobs at the moment, as it happens.'

'I may consider you, my friend. I like you Steven. Emily has told me all about you, I hope you don't mind that.'

Emily responded to Steven's look with an expression of 'Sorry.'

'Ah, that's fine. Emily does like to talk.'

'Yes, she does,' smiled Vincent.

'It's such a pity you had to suffer like that. I feel so sorry for you.'

'Excuse me?' Steven despised people's pity.

'I'm sorry, friend, I didn't mean it like that. I meant simply that I should help you enjoy yourself again.'

Gazing alluringly at Steven, Lydia said to Vincent, 'Shall we?'

'Yes,' he nodded decidedly. 'And young Miss Emily too.'

'Yummy.' Giggled Lydia softly.

'Shall we what?' Emily asked aloud.

'My new companions. Consider yourself formally invited to my exclusive VIP area. Only those I like are ever permitted to enjoy it. If you would care to join me, I would be most ingratiated.'

Vincent offered his hand to Emily, and Lydia offered hers again to Steven. They both accepted, and their gracious hosts led them away, through the throng to a door at the back of the club. At the door stood a large man in a suit.

'Good evening, sir,' the man said to Vincent.

'Yes it is Boris. These two are my guests in the VIP lounge.'

'Understood, sir,' the man stood to one side, and opened the door to let them through. He said 'Enjoy your evening, Sir, Madam,' as they went in.

The VIP lounge was a different atmosphere altogether to the main club. It felt luxurious, decadent. The carpet felt soft under Steven's Doc Martins, and it was a deep scarlet in colour. Plush furnishings adorned the seats and tables, arranged as if it were a living room for a large house. Finely crafted wooden tables that were highly polished, a large glass chandelier suspended grandly from a high, art-deco ceiling, and a plush bar attended by a smartly dressed man who could have been a butler, completed the picture. There were Other guests sat comfortably, drinking from luxurious crystal glassware, speaking inaudibly to each other. All the men were as handsome and youthful as Vincent, and there were women equally as beautiful as Lydia.

Steven noticed there was a definite difference between certain people in the lounge. The men that were in the company of the beautiful, elegant women who were as seductive as Lydia was, did not seem to be regulars, but seemed like invited guests, as Emily and Steven were. Steven also realised that there were young women who also appeared to be invited guests were in the company of the handsome men, who looked like they were well-established members.

Maybe it's singles night, Steven thought to himself. And he shrugged it off. He instead turned his gaze to Lydia, who to his surprise met his eyes with hers. She came in close to him, and placed her hands upon his hips. Awkwardly, but not wishing to keep his hand by his sides and appear rude, he gingerly placed his hands on her hips. Lydia said softly, 'We're going to have a wonderful time,'

Steven noticed, from this close, that her eyes seemed to have a reddish tint. Glancing briefly over her shoulder, he saw Vincent put his arm around Emily, and led her politely to a chaise-longe.

Feeling a little nervous, Steven said, 'What have we got to drink here?'

'Only the finest champagne for our guests,' smiled Lydia, and almost immediately a steward appeared with a silver tray, with two flute glasses of champagne. Steven noticed that the steward, who also was handsome and youthful, wore white gloves. How quaint, he thought.

Steven had found in Lydia the way to vent all his angst. For what seemed like hours, she patiently listened to him lamenting Haley, the loss of his job – even the pain of being bullied in his child hood. All the while Lydia had looked at him longingly, touching his cheek at the right moments and complimenting him when he put himself down. Steven was well aware she was hitting on him, and he enjoyed it very much. Despite being somewhat drunk, for he was enjoying the champagne, which flowed as freely as the conversation, he couldn't help being sexually attracted to the gorgeous woman sat with him on the soft, comfortable chaise-longe. He admired her smooth, silky skin, her striking eyes, and her slim figure. He considered himself lucky to be able to think this way so soon after Haley.

'I hope you don't mind me saying so, Lydia,' he said cautiously, 'but you are quite beautiful.'

'So kind, my dear. You speak your mind. I like that in a man.'

Emily was sure she was boring Vincent, yet he seemed to hang on her every word. She had even gone on to describing her job, which she found so very dull. The workday of a chartered accountant is rarely fun packed, after all. She was sure he was just feigning interest. She, too, was fairly drunk, though she noticed that he had hardly had anything to drink at all. But what the hell, the booze was free, so why not take advantage? Drunk, and horny, she finished talking about boring work, and looked flirtatiously at Vincent.

'Enough about my life story, anyway. Tell me about you.'

'My story,' he said modestly, 'is of no real significance.'

'Oh, come on… don't be so modest. You're so mysterious… it's cute.'

Vincent chuckled softly at being called cute. He looked deeply into her eyes, captivating her in his gaze. Emily felt a surge of energy in her body, sexual desire boiling inside. She felt as if his eyes were making her feel that way. Impulsively, she kissed him hungrily.

Steven went for broke: 'I couldn't help noticing how you kept looking at me, by the way,' he said to Lydia. 'I was very flattered.'

'you are a very striking man – very handsome,' she said sexily, 'and a very capable lover, I'll bet.'

'Really? You want to find out?' he half-joked.

'Yes.' She said longingly.

Steven had been taking a sip of champagne, and he nearly choked in surprise.

'Steven… I want you… tonight.' She leaned in and kissed his face gently, caressing his cheek with her soft, yet cold lips.

Where the hell did this come from? Steven thought to himself. Oh, fuck, he thought, this is a bloody knocking shop. He wondered if this meant she wanted to fuck him for money. He tried to broach the subject discreetly.

'Um… okay. How much.'

Lydia pulled back and looked at him quizzically. 'I'm sorry?'

'How much is it? You know – money?'

'Oh!' she giggled. 'Oh, you misunderstand, darling. I know how this whole set up must look to you,' she said, indicating the rest of the people in the room, 'but it's really not like that. I want you because, I am attracted to you. I know you want me. I saw it in your eyes when first you saw me.'

Damn, she's good, thought Steven.

They had been kissing passionately and grasping at each other all the way from the lounge, through the door, and up the narrow staircase to the bedroom. She hadn't noticed the discreet door that lead up to a second floor, which had four rooms; a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. This was clearly the flat where Vincent stayed.

She had control, and kicked the door to the bedroom shut behind them with her heel, and pushed Vincent stayed. In something bordering on a sexual frenzy, she tore at his clothes, revealing his firm, muscular torso, which she kissed all over. His hands were similarly grasping for her dress, which, once unfastened, slipped straight off, revealing her gorgeous, curvy body, her skin soft against his skin. Emily shrank back a little on contact. 'You're cold!' she gasped.

'Poor circulation, I guess.'

Emily put a finger on his lips.

'Don't speak. Just make love to me.'

She led him up the same staircase that Emily had disappeared up. Holding his hand, she took him into the bedroom, and quietly closed the door. She kissed him on the lips softly.

'Lay down on the bed,' she said softly.

Steven lay on the bed, which was soft, the sheets silky smooth. She stood at the foot of the bed, looking demurely at him. With a graceful movement she reached around her back with one hand and unzipped her long, black dress. It fell to the ground to reveal the milky white, naked figure of a goddess.

Steven felt the stiffness in his pants already. Lydia caught sight of the bulge, and her eyes flickered with aroused amusement. Steven blushed.

'You like what you see, I take it?' she said. She climbed on top of him, and kissed him again. Her hands independently removed his clothes, and he was soon naked, underneath her body. She kissed him hard on the lips, her tongue searching for his, and then kissed his chest. He put his hands on her shoulder blades and gripped her skin tightly with each new sensation of pleasure, and caressed her hair. She teased his neck with her tongue, kissed it with her lips. She nipped playfully at the flesh. Steven dug his nails in a little, to show that he didn't mind.

This is kinky, he thought to himself. She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever met, and she's on top of me. Making love to me. Fucking me. Oh, God this is absolute bliss, I can't believe what a night this has turned out to –

'What the fuck are you doing!' he yelped as the felt the pinprick pierce his neck. He was bleeding, and there was a fleck of blood on Lydia's lips.

'So sorry, honey. I got a little rough, didn't I?' Lydia said, pouting.

'It's okay,' he giggled, 'just be gentle with me.'

She kissed him full on the lips and began to rock again. She trailed down to his neck again, and again he felt the sting of sharp teeth burying into his skin, and the blood flowed. She fucked him harder, and kept a hold on his neck with her teeth.

'Stop – Stop it! What are you doing?' he grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her as hard as he could to lift her off him. He shrieked when he saw her face. Her lips were smeared with blood, and it dripped from her chin. He saw two long pointed teeth in her bloodied mouth, and her eyes were almost glowing, blood-red.

'Oh, my God,' he whimpered, trembling.

'Oh, don't be such a baby!' Lydia hissed, suddenly she was aggressive, nasty. 'Just lay back, enjoy it. It'll all be over soon.'

'You're a…. you're going to kill me!'

'Well, the boy catches on fast.' Lydia quipped viciously.

Steven shoved her, sending her off the bed, to the floor. He got up and backed toward the door.

'You fucking ingrate!' Lydia sneered. 'This is how you treat me, after being so nice to you?'

'Fuck you, vampire bitch,' Steven cried, with a fresh spurt of bravado.

Lydia stood up, blood dripping from her chin onto her breasts. She stepped slowly toward him. She looked sad, regretful.

'I didn't want it to be like this,' she sighed, still inching closer, 'I was going to make it as painless as possible. I was going to let you die with a smile on your face. You should have been enjoying your last moments alive…' her expression became harsh. 'Now I'll have to kill you painfully.' She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to her mouth. Steven punched her hard in the face before she could get a bite, and burst naked out of the door. He stumbled down the stairs, and burst in to the lounge. He saw Emily, sitting serenely in a chair drinking champagne. She was with Vincent.

'Steven! What are you doing!' Emily gasped.

'Steven, friend, where are your clothes? What has happened to you?' said Vincent, grinning.

'Fuck you,' Steven spat, and grabbed Emily by the arm.

'Come on,' he urged, 'we have to go. Now.'

'Leaving, so soon?' Vincent said quizzically. 'I'm afraid I can't allow that.'

Steven ignored him, and pulled Emily's arm, to get her out of the chair.

'What's wrong with you? We have to go!'

Emily calmly looked at him. 'Why did you have to fight it?' she said, angrily.

'What?' Steven froze, as he saw her eyes were as read as Lydia's.

'Vincent is right – we can't let you leave now.'

'FUCK!' Steven turned to run, and ran straight into a blockade of other vampires. The same people he had noticed in the room before. They circled him. Emerging from the circle came the naked Lydia, who approached him calmly.

'you hurt me back there,' she whispered. One of the members of the circle grabbed him roughly from behind and forced his head to one side. Lydia bit into his neck, and began to drain him. He struggled but the vampire holding him was too strong. He closed his eyes and prayed it would be over quickly. His veins burned as the blood rushed out of them.

A loud bang, and the splintering of wood made him open his eyes. Lydia took her teeth out of his neck and spun around, in the direction of the noise. So had all the other vampires. Lydia hissed and shrank back.

'You!'

Lydia hissed at the tall, frightening figure by the door, which he had blasted open. He could have drifted silently through the wall, but he loved to make an entrance. He stood with his arms casually behind his back.

'Yes…'

The figure, almost indistinguishable under the shadow cast by the large-rimmed hat, and his black hair decadently fallen over his face, spoke in a deep voice.

'…Me!'

A malicious grin was seen on his face, which displayed his sharp fangs. Steven saw them, and figured this was obviously not the rescue party he had hoped it was.

The unwelcome vampire brought his hands to his front, revealing two dangerously oversized pistols. He fired them simultaneously. Steven watched in horror as Lydia's entire head burst in a display of blood, flesh, and bone, and her body crumbled to the ground.

Vincent gritted his teeth at the sight, and ordered to the entourage, 'Kill him!'

The vampires lunged forth as Emily held on to Vincent. There was fear in her eyes as she saw each vampire blown to smithereens in the hail of gunfire as they took on the gun-wielding assassin, who barely flinched or moved as he deflected each one with his bullets. When the last vampire hit the floor, he spoke coolly to Vincent.

'You bore me with your pathetic minions, you filthy creature.'

'Fuck you, slave to the humans!' Vincent retorted.

'I am no more a slave to humans than you are a slave to your bloodlust. Cease this pitiful talk and fight me.'

Vincent grabbed the frozen, shocked Steven, and held him in front.

'You'll let me go, Alucard, or I'll kill he human where he stands.'

This was the third time Steven had been faced with death in perhaps about as many minutes. He was sobbing in fear. 'Just let him go, please, don't let him kill me…' he urged.

'You think you can appeal to me with a human?' Alucard said. His red eyes grew wide with relish. 'Kill him. It makes no difference to me. It won't stop me from killing you, either way.'

'No! Please, don't kill me!' Steven pleaded.

Vincent stared at Alucard. Emily slowly backed away, also fixated on Alucard. She wanted out, she wanted to live. Or whatever the word is for the continual existence of an undead vampire.

There was a glint in Alucard's eyes.

Vincent caught sight of it.

He knew what he was going to do.

And he knew what to do.

With one swift movement, he snapped Steven's neck, as simultaneously, a silver stake from Alucard cut through the air and pierced Emily's heart. The bodies hit the floor at the same time.

'Now it's just the two of us.', Alucard sneered. No humans or minions for you to hide behind. Now, fight me!'

Immediately Vincent whipped a pistol out from his jacket, and fired wildly at Alucard, ducking for cover as Alucard also let loose a hail of bullets. The rounds passed harmlessly through Alucard, who turned to mist, except for his arms, aiming and firing the guns.

Vincent dived behind a chair, which exploded in a flurry of splintering wood, and cushion stuffing, as the bullets ripped through it. When the gunfire stopped, Vincent stood up, and vanished into black smoke. He re-materialised at the mantelpiece, and grabbed a sword which hung above it. Alucard unsheathed his own sword and parried the blade as Vincent launched his attack. Effortlessly, Alucard deflected each swipe of his assailant's sword. He brought his blade down from above, an attack which Vincent side-stepped and returned with a forward jab which impaled Alucard through the torso.

With a free hand Alucard gripped Vincent's sword tightly.

'Not silver, is it?' Alucard said mockingly. 'Stupid fool. You insult me with your inferior combat skills, and cheap trinkets for weapons.'

'Then strike, Alucard. Strike. I swear, there will be more of us to come for you and that whore you serve, and you will soon see the day she is drained of her blood before your very eyes… right before you die.'

The insult to Integra jabbed him painfully in his unbeating heart. It angered him that he could say that about his master. The sword spoke for the final time, and Alucard had ensured Vincent could never insult Integra, or anyone, again. Vincent's head fell to the floor.His hand fell away fromhis sword, stillin Alucard's torso.His body hit the floor next.

Alucard smiled to himself. A satisfied, smirking smile, as he surveyed the bodies that lay scattered and maimed around the lounge. He pulled the sword out of his body, and cast it aside. A small trickle of blood slipped off his own sword as he lowered it.

Alucard turned to the door, and walked calmly out, in to the club, and out in to the night.


End file.
